Last night I was so exhausted but too stressed out to sleep. I slept on and off in between wake-up calls till nearly noon, though. Thanks to people getting ruder and louder with each passing day, I have to sleep longer to make up for all the times they stomp and slam me awake. It’s just after 9:00 now, so hopefully in another hour, people will shut up for the night, not that I won’t have to get up with them at 8:00 in the morning when they bang on outa here. Ain’t God just grand? I miss the good old days of not being able to hear – or feel, for that matter – those in neighboring rooms. I just don’t understand why people have to come and go so much, or why they can’t simply close a door and not slam it. And why do they have to stomp rather than walk, and why do they have to stop and chat outside our window and not do it in their rooms or out somewhere? I totally envy Tom cuz at least he can sleep through this circus!

I decided not to bother changing rooms. I figured I’m so damn noise-cursed, that running wouldn’t do me any good since I could never hide. I’ll never again live in peace. I may never know why I don’t deserve to, but I know I never will. So it’s either drop dead or get used to it. I’ve lived in noisy places for more than half of my life now. It’s as meant to be a part of my life as it is for me to be short. Even so, I’ve had enough of the distractions, so while I can still feel them stampeding by, I can’t hear much shit anymore. I just wish I could sleep with these, but why would God give me even better sleep, right? The bigger question is, did He deny our request to get into that apartment to do us a favor in the end by letting us get a house, even if it’s a dumpy old tooth house? Or is it just to put us out even more and simply delay the apartment and its loud, rude, obnoxious inhabitants?

I’ll probably be up later tonight and end up exhausted again tomorrow, but as long as I can get caught up every 2-3 days I should be ok. I just wish I knew what was going on and when! When will he get a job and where will we live? How much will the job pay and how long must we stay in motels? My vibes still say we’ll be here till mid-September and that he’ll get a $9 day shift job. The only good thing is that I haven’t had apartment nightmares. Any dreams I’ve had have been in houses and I caught a slight vibe about a semi-dumpy house like the Phoenix one was, but didn’t see the size or what was around it. After living in such a tiny, dumpy house in the snow, I’d take a house like the Phoenix one in sunny, warm California any day!

But God doesn’t want me to live where I want to live. This reality keeps coming back to haunt me and dampen any hope of getting a house. He also doesn’t usually like us to have much money, so I won’t expect much over the next year or two.

Tom went to the DMV today and got a temporary permit so we can drive the truck, if it’ll let us, for the next 30 days in California.

That beauty basket isn’t all Suave products after all. There are things in it that Suave doesn’t make, from what I was told.

Motel 6…

We’re now at Motel 6, and this is the hardest room to sleep in so far. That’s because we’re on the second floor where I can feel everybody’s footsteps as they pass through the walkway that wraps around this corner room. We should’ve stuck to ground floors. That way we could still hear people’s attention-getting antics what with how aggressively they have to stomp and slam shit around, but we couldn’t feel it. The whole place vibrates when people go by. If I get woke up too much we’ll transfer to a ground floor.

The internet connection’s not much more reliable or faster here, so I can’t do much sweeping now. That’s ok cuz we’re not in a position to be dealing with prizes right now. We have too many other more important things to worry about, so if it’s not a check for a million bucks, we don’t need the hassle. As it is, I just learned that I won a $275 beauty basket which appears to be a bunch of Suave skincare products. Suave usually sucks, especially their shampoo, but it will still be interesting to see what they send. I have to fill out an affy I received by email, then print and fax it. Tom’s going to take this laptop, probably to the UPS store, and get it done there. They called too, and got me all psyched up for nothing. Usually, they call for prizes worth thousands, not hundreds.

Anyway, this room has two beds and pets stay free. He woke me up last night as he bumped into the dresser and it took me forever to fall back asleep. And I had just prayed for decent sleep during our homeless time, too. Funny how I always get the opposite of what I ask for. I don’t mind not getting the apartment I asked for, but perhaps I should start asking for chaos and poverty and all kinds of other bullshit. Maybe the only way whatever’s up there will listen to me is if I ask for what I don’t want.

There’s no refrigerator or microwave in here and the room is small, but there’s only one drape that stretches across the entire window so I don’t have to fight with getting the gap in the middle to close tightly. The colors are brighter in here, too.

People are storming by right now. It’s like the NHA in here! Thanks, God, I really need this shit in my life. Anything to remind me how I’m not meant to live in peace, right? We’re coming up to primetime soon, so I’m sure it’ll be quite an earthquake around here for at least a few hours. Hopefully, everyone can stay put after 10:00, so I can try to catch up on my sleep. And hopefully, they won’t go jumping about too early either.

The last place we stayed at was surprisingly quiet over the weekend.

After we checked in here around noon, I rested to the shaking of footsteps while he did the laundry. Then we went to Denny’s. I was starving, so I ate every bite of my steak and eggs and most of my fries.

Back to my usual formatted headers now that I found where to uncheck the box that keeps the time and dates current.

Today’s going to be boring for the most part since there’s not much to do on a Sunday, but kick back and wait to check out tomorrow morning.

I managed to sleep most of last night, and Tom, who was kind enough to sleep on the floor and who said he slept really well even though I still feel bad for being such a light sleeper, said it’s been surprisingly quiet. That must be why I didn’t get woken up a million times. The noisiest thing so far today has been the housekeeper.

I can’t keep their damn internet connected here, so I can’t do much sweeping, and they don’t have a high-speed connection, so what I can do takes forever. I’m not in the frame of mind to work on stories right now, so I guess I’ll struggle with Netwinner and listen to music for most of the day. At least he’s got those damn car races to watch to occupy his time.

Tom walked through a different section of this area and said it was like a whole ‘nother world. Like there’s this invisible line that homeless people can’t cross. He said it was quiet, the kids were civilized, and it was just a very peaceful setting in general. We both agree that if our only choice is to rent an apartment, we’d rather rent from one of the mansions down here that have been converted into apartments, rather than in a complex, though to me, all apartments suck. We just don’t want to be on this main road where there are more stereos and sirens.

By the time we arrived in Sacramento, we were both so exhausted. We were also greeted with what I took to be not a very welcoming situation, too. We parked at the Clarion, which was where we’d reserved a room for a week. By then it was chilly. We entered the lobby to see that all the employees were black, and it seemed that so were all the guests! I was like, what? Are there no white people in Sacramento at all? But as Tom pointed out, 2nd and 3rd shifts tend to have more minorities, and the loud, rude, obnoxious assholes next to what would’ve been our room, were traveling in groups for some sort of reunion or something. Just your typical rap-blasting, attention-getting blacks that don’t have a care in the world unless it pertains to them. So we went back down to the lobby, told them we could hear music blasting in our room, and were given a refund. By now it was past 11:00 and we had to hope to find another place to go.

I’ll admit things could’ve been worse. These assholes could’ve checked in after we did and other things could’ve gone wrong, but as usual, the truck is having various problems and it’s been tough enough. For one, we had to ride with no AC in the heat yesterday. I hope we can sell the piece of shit real soon. It may be normal for a vehicle to need work every few weeks or months, but not every few days! I just don’t know that we could get enough for it to buy something else. For a ’79 vehicle, it’s getting to be a bit of a collectible, but not much yet. Tom’s napping right now. Then when he gets up he’ll have a look at it to see if it’s a problem with the alternator, or if a wire loosened, or whatever. I just hope it’s not going to cost too much! We’ve already had to spend $60 for a new power cord, and other surprise expenses that crept up on us. I just wonder if he’ll be able to get it registered tomorrow as he plans on doing.

Anyway, we checked into a room at the Econo Lodge on our first night. Although it was too expensive and had no internet access, it was a great room. It was huge. It had a king-size bed, a double bed, and a loveseat. I didn’t like how it was by the pool, but it was empty for most of the two days we were there. I’d have gladly used it myself if I hadn’t been so damn exhausted, but I was beat as hell. I was too wound up to sleep right away, and of course, I had to be woken up a zillion times in the morning because no one can shut doors normally. Everybody has to slam them. So between people checking out and the housekeepers doing their thing, I dozed on and off during most of the first day while he got our stuff in storage. I offered to go and help him, but he insisted he’d be ok on his own.

He returned in the late afternoon, calves and feet sore as hell. By then I was perking up somewhat but still felt half-drugged. We were both starving after not eating all day. So we went to a nearby coffee shop, found it closed, returned to the room, and ordered room service from a restaurant which took 45 minutes to arrive.

Since we knew we couldn’t stay there, we left Tinkerbell in the truck so we didn’t have to pay for her. The Clarion wanted a ridiculous $100 for her, but this other Econo Lodge charges just $6 a night, and we couldn’t keep her in the truck forever. Keeping her in the front of the rental truck where the AC was running during the daytime and windows open to ventilate her at night was one thing, but we couldn’t keep her in our truck with it being nearly 100º out.

So we checked out of the first Econo Lodge yesterday at 11:00, which was on the edge of Sacramento. And I saw that yes, there are other whites, thank God! I wasn’t too tired, since fortunately, I was able to fall asleep the next night a little earlier than I thought I would, and ended up getting up at 9:30. Motels are no place to sleep in during the daytime, so I’m trying to stay on days as best I can. The noisiest hours are in the evenings when people check in, and then in the mornings when the housekeepers hit the scene. I’ve stayed in plenty of motels/hotels before the 90s and never heard a damn thing. It used to be people simply checking in and you never knew it. You never heard them banging around in their rooms and they’d never make such a big deal of slamming in and out. Perhaps there’s only so much the bamboos can do in today’s motels, but it’s still making me wonder if the extreme noise curse we’d been under for so long was kept off those two years in the dump by either the horseshoe or just something in particular about the dump itself. We’ll find out for sure when we get a place. It’s definitely noisier downtown, which is where we are now. More car stereos, but not as many as I thought there’d be with so many more people around. I’m surprised. Maybe they do ticket them here. Someone in Roseville, who I won a shirt from and had to give the new address, said they didn’t have a problem with them there when I asked. I guess it depends on where you go. The nicer the area, the less likely you are to have them.

Despite being downtown and despite beggars and people arguing here and there, it really is quite nice. We wouldn’t want to live here, but the trees and flowers are so pretty the way they provide so much nice shade. They make a canopy over the streets. The houses are older in this area. I think that’s why they refer to it as Old Town Sacramento. I don’t care for them, but they’re not nearly as dumpy as some of the K-Falls houses, and they’re nice and big, too. I wish we had our bikes, though. It’d be fun cruising around with them, and that way we’d be less likely to be pestered by beggars. One funny chick, who appeared to be a bit drunk or high or whatever, asked Tom for the time and told me I had pretty hair. She should try taking care of it! I should’ve cut it off before we started packing. It’s such a pain! It’s always in the way. It’s too long and heavy to put up in the heat. But I’m always too lazy to bother cutting it and figure that the best way to avoid a bad cut is to never bother to cut it in the first place. Yesterday, I wouldn’t have cared if someone shaved it off, though. Even in a knot, it was still smothering me, and we were driving around during the hottest part of the day.

Our first stop was the mailbox in Carmichael. I was really impressed with parts of Carmichael and its nicer homes and better-kept yards. The houses are still too close for comfort, especially if barking dogs are left in the yard next to yours, but the driveways didn’t run alongside the houses like they usually do in the west. I liked how they drove up in front of the houses. I guess if you have a garage, and most of the houses in Carmichael do, they run right up to the garage, but when you have nothing or just a carport, they run between the houses. Anyway, Carmichael seems to be a good place for those who want to be in the mainstream or who have no choice but to be, though I doubt we’d be able to afford to rent a place there. I’m sure we’ll be in an in-between neighborhood like we were in Phoenix with the freeloaders, car stereos and whatever else our lovely God sics on us.

After getting our mail, we went to the storage place to store a few more things to clear out the back of the truck, so it’s easier for him to see out the back window.

Then it was off to Walmart with kids behaving as they usually do – screaming, running around the place, mothers acting oblivious to it all, etc. We got the power cord there and a new pre-paid phone.

This was when we didn’t know if the truck would break down completely or what since we didn’t yet have the roadside assistance thing set up, and it seemed to take forever too, to get to the Econo Lodge we’re in now until Monday. This room sucks. There’s only one bed and the room is tiny. The internet access sucks too, because it’s wireless, and wireless is so undependable. I don’t know why anyone bothers with it. It keeps cutting out every few minutes. There’s no way I can sweep till we get something reliable and that can only be non-wireless. There’s no pool here, and it’s noisier than the other place. Tom showed me a better way to use the wax earplug so it seals up better, and it really does a surprisingly good job blocking out banging and bass, but I still can’t sleep with it because it loosens as I move.

I also liked how the AC fan in the other room kept running even when the compressor wasn’t.

I hope he’s right when he says he thinks we’ll only have to play motel for 2-3 weeks as opposed to the 2 months I vibe because having to sleep in spurts and to get my sleep shorted so many days in a row is a real killer. Monday we’re going to try this Motel 6 that says they’ve got non-wireless internet. Their ad says they have just one floor, but their picture clearly shows 3 floors. I’m sure it’ll be noisy enough either way. I just hope they have a pool and reliable internet service. At least I can now update this journal and charge my iPod. That’s a little louder than the laptop, believe it or not.

The good news is that we could survive at the cheapest motel on just the Unemployment, which he applied for online last night, and on a low-paying job, but I still hope I’m wrong in vibing he’s going to get a $9 job on days and that we won’t get a place for a couple of months. The question is, will that place be a rocking apartment? A noisy house? A tolerable house? A peaceful one? Well, God would never consider us good enough for a peaceful place anymore than He’d consider us worthy of having something decent to drive, so I’ll hope for a tolerable house but expect a wild apartment. Either way, I just hope he gets a job or the Unemployment before our money runs out!

There are a lot of Chinese restaurants around here, which is fine with me. I got some Chinese to go from a nearby convenience store, and later we’ll order a pizza.

My lungs have been ok, thank God, and my ear is about the same. Maybe a little worse, but so far it hasn’t been bad enough to take anything for it.

So much for taking this thing to Italy! Not if it’s only going to run for 10 minutes. I’d rather take a pen and notebook and just get an MP3 player that’ll last longer to drown out all the screaming if they haven’t made baby Benadryl mandatory or do something to control the chorus of screaming by then. Anyway, I ended up taking notes so I wouldn’t forget things.

Before I get behind, let me go back to the trip down here. The scenery was gorgeous, but by the time we got to flatter lands, most of which contained farms, it was too dark to see much. It’s amazing how fast the climate/terrain can change! One minute we were winding our way through the Cascade Mountains and pines, the next we were on straight roads dotted with oaks and palms. I swear the temperature went up 10º in a second, too! It was so exciting seeing the first of the palms again, along with the oleanders and bougies. I missed them. I will never again live in a cold climate! There are definitely not as many palms here, though, as opposed to Phoenix and Florida, where they don’t have much choice as far as trees and plants go. I was surprised to see prickly pears here. I thought they’d drown in this place.

Both of us agree K-Falls sucked. It was just a nothing town with so little variety, stores, and the restrictive hours sucked, too. The same mailman I asked about Randy asked where we were going, saying he noticed that morning that we forwarded our address. Other than the mild summers, all I’ll miss is how everybody knows everybody. No other place that I can remember had such friendly mail carriers that’d stop to chat with you.

Like most of the west, we drove through nothing, then entered towns, and back and forth. Just under the border was Dorris, which looked like it could be K-Falls with their older, dumpier houses. They get just as much snow, too. Then in between nowhere land, we drove through other places like MacDoel, Anderson, Gunnison, Chico, and Yreka, where a couple of blacks were arguing by the street. It was neat seeing signs for San Francisco and even Los Angeles.

We stopped in Redding where it was well in the 90s and grabbed a bite at Burger King.

It got a little stressful when we smelled smoke and saw a handful of fire trucks while still up in the Cascades. Wildfires are common this time of year.

The farms we could see consisted of many olive groves, and those same melons they’d grow down in Arizona that attract all kinds of bugs at night. I thought it was raining for a minute, till I realized it was raining bugs on the windshield.

By nightfall, there were fewer cars and more truck convoys on the freeway.

In the Motels, Econo Lodge…

I started to open my Oregon file, but then I said, wait a minute! I don’t live there anymore! Yes, I’m now in the right state, but not the right place. Oh well, at least I have the state and climate right, even though this is your typical annoying, bangy motel. It could be worse, though, and with the evening now setting in, it should quiet down soon enough.

After just 5 hours of sleep, we packed the truck from 8am-2pm yesterday. Because of a utility pole, we couldn’t park in front of the house without blocking Kim’s driveway, so we parked in front of next door. In front of their yard, that is. Kim was out during that last day. She might’ve seen we were moving and gone somewhere else to get away from the noise, although with her place being positioned as it was on the property, she wouldn’t have heard much.

We ended up leaving some stuff we didn’t have time to take to the dump, but since it was in a neat pile on the porch, hopefully they’ll still give us some of our deposit back after they take whatever they’re going to take for the carpet cleaners. We just left some old boxes and an old beat-up suitcase. I also left a $2 Baskin Robbin’s certificate we never used, and my dead date palm and dying ponytail palm on the porch steps. Maybe someone can use the pots they’re in. The bamboos rode by my feet to help protect us on the way down, and they did. No flat tires, no near-spills, nothing major.

Our feet were sore and we were tired, but we dropped off the cable box at Charter’s, turned in our keys, then hit the road. Actually, we hit the road after grabbing some munchies from Circle K where we met up with Kevin, the English guy Tom used to work with. He asked for his email address so they could stay in touch.

Twenty minutes later we were greeted by the Welcome to California sign with the California poppies on it. Tinkerbell rode between us in the cab of the rental truck but slept through most of the trip.

The GPS is way cool, but not always accurate. It’s still cool to be able to type in an address and have it tell you “turn left” or “stay on the road for 3 miles” and things like that.

For 3 hours we wound through giant pine-studded peeks and valleys. It was stressful driving for Tom because it was such a rollercoaster, though nothing compared to the trip up from Arizona. There were deer and bear-crossing signs everywhere. Mt. Shasta was as beautiful as ever, but once again, I didn’t get to take pictures of it. This time it was because I was dumb enough to forget to put freshly charged batteries in the camera. I’m just not meant to have pictures of it! We’ve both been forgetting and losing things like crazy amidst all the chaos. I misplaced the power cord to this laptop and now we may have to buy another one so we don’t have to tear through our stuff which is now in storage. He misplaced his passport, so hopefully he won’t need that for anything till he stumbles across it.

I’m about to lose my battery here. Gotta go!

We spent the day loading up the moving truck. The apartment complex won’t take us due to bad credit without having a job first, thanks to the queen. So we’re off to a motel to either sink or swim late tomorrow morning! I can’t believe we failed to get an apartment! How could we fail to get something I’d hate and would never want? Could it really be because something’s doing us a favor by guiding us to a house instead? God, I hope so! But I know better than to get my hopes up too high. It’s just so weird, cuz it’s usually the things I do want that I don’t end up getting. So does this mean we’re in for something even worse than an apartment?

I started some of the prepping. I did the bathroom and got that out of the way, knowing that’d be the hardest room. Meanwhile, we’re waiting for the jury to return a verdict of either “you’re in” or “you’re not in.” Tom doesn’t think we’ll go broke if we get in, and he says he still thinks we might not if we don’t. I think we’ll definitely go broke in a motel, and that getting in would certainly lessen the chances, but not guarantee it.

My first thought about having to play motel was that that’d not only be a major inconvenience for us but up our chances dramatically of going broke, till I realized it could be a good thing. It’s a hell of a long shot, but having to go to a motel may give us a chance to skip the apartments altogether and get a house. Most of the houses listed online are by property management companies and they require you to make 3 times the rent. But Tom said that the individuals renting places that don’t go through management companies don’t usually have the money to advertise online. Instead, they put signs up or run newspaper ads, and they don’t usually have such high standards for renters.

I still have to believe God wants us to live in noisy places. The question is, can we live in one that’s noisy, but tolerable like this place is? Or do we have to go back to the maddening extremes? I guess it’ll depend on if he wants us to suffer financially or not, or just listen to people’s shit.

Tom’s running some errands right now and I had thought I’d save my updating for the road, but I don’t want to get too backed up. I also may be too excited and stressed to concentrate on writing on the road anyway and wanting to take in the magnificent scenery. I can’t wait to see Mt. Shasta again!

It doesn’t look like next door’s moving after all. They cleaned up the trash and planted a garden and didn’t party at all last night, according to Tom.

The good news, although it’s not etched in stone yet, is that we may not have to do motels after all. We got a UPS mailing box in Carmichael and we might have a 2-bed/2-bath, 2nd-floor apartment that’s 900 square feet and $805 a month, in neighboring Citrus Heights. I like these towns because they have almost as many whites as opposed to off-brands as K-Falls does. It’s the Summer Hill complex, and it sure seems a lot fancier than any of the complexes I lived in in Phoenix. They don’t have washers and dryers in the apartments, but they’ve got laundry rooms, pools, spas, clubhouses, fitness rooms, tennis courts and basketball courts. No playgrounds for kids, so it makes me think there are not many of them there if any at all. Hopefully, if there are, they’ll spend time at the tennis and basketball courts.

The last thing I want is to live attached to others again, but it seems to be as good as an apartment complex could possibly be for a light sleeper who’s not always on the same schedule, and who works at home, wanting peace and quiet. For now, I’m trying to stay on days as long as I can till we get settled.

We should know for sure by Monday if we’re going to get in. It would make things so much easier on us if we could, and it might even prevent us from extreme financial troubles as we had coming here. Could God be that nice to us for once and compensate us for the disaster we went through coming here? I hope so! I’m still doing my little prayer experiment, praying for good health, no money problems, no neighbor/noise problems. Over the next month, I should know if it’s paid off at all.

We just have to hope that MCX and AAA are willing to give us good references, though we don’t see why they wouldn’t. More so, we have to hope the queen and the black sicko don’t go fucking things up for us. We still don’t know what would appear on any background check they did on me. I got into this place ok, but did they even bother to check? They have a time limit on misdemeanors, which is good, but we still don’t know what our credit report may say. Those problems didn’t really finish playing out till after AAA took us in.

I went through the pain-in-the-ass job of changing my Robo passcards and updating account information at various sites at which I have a membership.

I finally got to redeem points for a $100 Walmart card too, so now I’m back down to 38,880 points. Hopefully, I’ll get my first card without any problems. If so, then by the time I do, I should be almost ready for another card! Rent.com is going to give us a $100 Visa card for getting a place through them if we really do. It looks promising, but there are no guarantees. It’s a fourplex, so like I said, it’s as good as one can get for an apartment. I don’t know what the outside noise will sound like, but this way we’d only have whoever was under us, plus part of the one sidewall that’d be shared in the area where the stairwell wasn’t present.

A couple of days ago I went in the truck to Albertson’s for the first time since moving to this house. Deciding to assume we’d be broke soon enough, I got some incense, a colorful skirt and a new oil warmer while I could. We also ate at KFC with the $1 coupon I won, but he just got potato wedges, since he hates chicken.

I spoke briefly with Paula this morning and let her know we’d be taking off next week. I sent her a quick note with our new address.

I also got a surprise email from Mary which I almost marked as spam at first. Then when I saw it said: It’s me, Mary. Please do contact me. It came from a Jeff W. I asked who he was and how Mary was, and let him know I’d contact her. Why not? I do kinda miss her, even if she annoys me at times. The question is, is she wanting contact to ask me for favors? To tell me she’s getting out soon? Going to prison? Well, I guess I’ll find out soon enough. I gave her the new address too, and we should definitely be down there before she has a chance to receive my letter and then write back.

Later…

I got a reply from Jeff W. It’s actually Shirley, a friend of Mary’s mother, Elaine. She said Mary writes her once in a while, is ok, and asked to pass along the message about writing to her.

Here’s something hilarious. Tom just came in to say he couldn’t believe it when Yahoo, his homepage, just said it was 94º. He said, but it can’t be more than 80º out there! And he thought it was weird when he’d get up real early and see it say it was already 75º, surprised it wasn’t in the 50s. That’s when he realized he’d already set it to Sacramento weather! Ha, ha, ha, ha!!! I should secretly switch it back to here in a few months so he can wake up to have it tell him it’s freezing!

The last of the plans has been finalized. He got a bigger, but cheaper truck from Budget Truck Rentals reserved for Monday. Tuesday is when we’ll take off, whether we have a place lined up or have to go to a motel. The question is, if we do have to go to a motel first, is that God’s way of doing us a favor in the end? Or would He be screwing us over that way? If we had to go to a motel, then Tom got a much better paying job than even he thought, we might be able to go to a house and skip the apartments altogether, but I know better than that. God’s going to do everything He can to drain our money as fast as possible, get us into a noisy apartment and keep us there for at least a year, only allowing Tom the shitty-paying jobs. I don’t think he’ll get more than $9 an hour.

Next door is one of those extremes that isn’t, so to speak. They’ve got trash all over the yard and Tom’s been seeing 6-7 cars a day there. And although I haven’t heard anything, thanks to them being further away and the driveway being on the other side of the house, it goes to show that we can still beat some pretty ridiculous odds and get those extremes. Every house we’ve had has been next to a rental. What are the odds of that, along with the odds of someone having 15 little brothers next door, plus all the other flukes we’ve had to deal with?

On the other hand, we could’ve gotten stuck with a stereo next door, and we could’ve had them driving in and out of the yard with them, too. Something definitely looked out for us in this house. We’ll just see how it goes when we’re attached to people again.

People associate big with tougher, so I’ve stopped drinking the tea till we get settled down there. If I do end up literally having to “fight for my sleep,” I’ll want the extra weight to do so with. I’ll also need it if things go so bad that we end up broke and starving. My body can use the extra fat, and I have about 35 pounds of it, to feed off of if it has to.

I just wish I knew why we’re being steered into motels first! Is it just to put us out some more and drain our money faster? Or is it to help us get to a better place?

All I know is that I’m just so sick of moving just because other people can’t shut up! In this case, it may be more due to the house being a dump, the town being a dead-end place, and the cold and snow, but almost all my other moves were because someone just couldn’t shut up. Well, this time around I’ll shut them up! Why should I be put out cuz of them? So believe me when I say there won’t be any phone calls, eggs, or other pranks. Just my fists! For once they’re going to pay for their actions, not me! And they won’t have any kind of a hold on me to stop me!

Regardless of what the neighbors force me to do to get any peace, today’s a prime example of why I want out of Oregon. It’s July and I’m cold! It’s been rainy and is only to get up to 65º today and down to 46º tonight.

Wow, that was wild! I just watched Tom drive off in the truck for the first time in over two years! He’s gone to do the laundry. A lot more of it than he could take on the bike, like our comforters and things like that.

I had what I hope was a dream signaling a big win to come, even though he’ll tell you I don’t have dream premonitions and that I’m only an influencer. I dreamt I looked out back and saw my folks. I stormed out there and shouted, “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

My dad turned to me as if all had been just dandy over the years and called out “Jodi Lin!” in the jovial way he sometimes used to. Then I noticed the shiny new car and thought it was theirs at first until I realized it was too ordinary to be theirs. Why would they have just a 25K car? Then I saw 2-3 boxes the size of a refrigerator and he said, “Yeah, you won big this time.”

I said, “Well, how did you get in the picture? I don’t remember you being on any entry forms.”

Then he said, “You’ve got 400-500 more packages coming.”

The truck’s progressing nicely and why wouldn’t it? We’re going to a zoo, not a nice, peaceful house. It’s when we get there that the piece of shit will break down. We’re almost certainly going to get something new within the first year, though it’ll just be another, better piece of shit. You’d think at our ages we could at least have something decent to drive since we can’t live where we want to, but that’s just how it is for us; we always gotta take what we can get and that’s not usually much. At least we can now drive as well as walk and ride our bikes, and at least that zoo won’t snow or get down to 20º.

Tinkerbell’s tumor is continuing to grow. The damn thing is about the size of a golf ball now. Because it’s on her chest she has to arch her back when she walks, the poor thing, but at least she doesn’t appear to be in any pain.

The pool diagonally across from us is deflated, too. What, is someone going around pool-popping or something? Then again, it’s probably cuz of the midges. Tom says the inside of the truck is loaded with dead bugs galore that he’ll have to vacuum out.

I didn’t see anyone, but apparently someone next door’s painting a car because they have the windows covered with newspaper. They have a small screen room set up too, and of course it’s right by our place. Well, not right smack up against the fence, but close to it. I’m amazed I haven’t heard anything else other than their music which seems to be a popular Friday night sport. Or at least every other Friday.

They’ve not only begun to kick unruly kids off planes whose mothers won’t hush them or medicate them, but they’re also kicking them off some beaches in Michigan too, they’re so damn out of control these days. Hopefully, the more they get ousted from various places, the more the parents might consider returning to the good old days when kids were seen and not heard! And teach them some fucking manners.

Things are back to normal as far as the stereos go. I had to listen to them blast by every 15 minutes or so for two hours after I got up, and I didn’t get up till 11 PM. They were blasting off next door too, and I could faintly hear the beat of music in here. Tom thinks they’re moving because the pool’s deflated and he’s been seeing a different vehicle over there. They definitely don’t stay there long. I’d think a ghost was chasing them out if I didn’t know how old and dumpy the place is for what it costs. Anyway, this is nothing. Wait till we’re attached to this shit again!

Tom quit his job yesterday so now we’re almost as homeless as we are jobless, and now it’s off to either sink or swim in a few days. I know we can swim at least till September with the money we’ve got saved, but who knows after that? Guess it’s all going to depend on just how much God may still hate us.

It sucks that I’m both stressed out and depressed over the move. I should be excited and excited only. This is California. Yet while there is a degree of excitement, all I can think about is the shit I went through at the duplex, in Phoenix, the NHA. My biggest fear is that they won’t let me sleep. Stealing my peace when I’m awake would be bad enough, but I know all too well and good how miserable it can make you feel, even if you don’t smoke, to go month after month with no sleep.

It also sucks that the horses didn’t pan out so we could go where we wanted. But of course God wouldn’t let that work out if He’s as hell-bent as always on keeping us where at least I don’t want to be. Tom’s not as picky. He’s not a light sleeper and he’s not home as much. It would’ve been different to go to an apartment knowing we had money and that there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Going out this way is a lot like being the unsentenced inmate in jail, not knowing where the end is or if there even is an end, and what may happen in between.

Just a few more minor adjustments and we are on wheels again! He could only get a 3-week permit for it, then we’ll get a 30-day one down there. Then we’ll decide whether or not to get a different vehicle or what, I hope. Meaning, I hope God will leave the choice to us. As it is I am not looking forward to being his little bum again! Tom’s being his usual naive, over-optimistic self, but I’m thinking that we’ll really be feeling that old familiar poverty pinch around September or October. I’m hoping that the following spring we’ll start seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. Then by summer of ’09, we should once again be temporarily on our feet. You know, like for a year or two.

Someone from here saw his resume online and called him. Figures, huh? But California hasn’t called. Well, unless they’re willing to give him $30 an hour and a remote farm to live on, we’re outa here!

I don’t like anyone telling me I have to stay in a particular place for a certain amount of time. I’ve had enough of that. Therefore, I told Tom that since we won’t have the money for an upscale apartment that might be quiet, let’s just go for one with a 3-month lease rather than 6 months to a year. Then the only thing that’ll be stopping us from moving will be poverty, fate and me, determined to adapt and stay put since I could never live where I want to anyway. God’s really made me feel like I don’t deserve to by stripping me of my right to choose where I go. I’m glad He at least has the decency to let me choose what state I go to, but why the apartments? Why the tooth houses? The only way I could stand having neighbors so close, but not attached, would be in a retirement community. Until then, why couldn’t we have been allowed to strike out on our own? Of course, the fucking Arabs are partly responsible for us having to stick to the city. Anyway, maybe if I quit fighting Him and just give in to His obsession with me living where I don’t want to, other things will go better in life. Besides, it’d only be a matter of time till we ended up right back there anyway.

So anyway, Tom said that if we’re going to do that, we may as well get a place that does month-to-month, so he can focus solely on getting a job.

And I’ll focus on the positives to the negatives. Assuming we can get on top of someone, and I hope so since I’ve never really had any problems with anyone under me as opposed to above and next door, then I won’t have to feel so bad about accidentally dropping something on their heads at 3 AM if they can’t shut up, now will I?

What sucks is that my air cleaner picked the perfect time to crap out on me. I can’t run it on high where it’s loudest. Now tell me that’s just a coincidence and I’ll tell you you’re full of shit! Tom says we can get a new one when we get there, but I don’t know if an air cleaner can save me in an apartment. It blocks out most non-vibrant sounds, but when the animals next door get to running around, and the people downstairs have to slam their door, it’s going to jolt me awake. That’s ok. I’ll be waking them up, too. If they won’t let me sleep on whatever schedule I’m on, of course I’m not going to let them sleep either.

The stereos have continued to be quieter, and I’m not sure if the spells have finally kicked in, something up there is finally listening to me, or people have started complaining. I’m just glad they’re quieter. Besides banging, house stereos are going to be one of the worst problems down there because they’re not going to be for just a few seconds at a time. Oh well, once again, the past can’t come back to haunt me if I stay in the past.

I hit 130 on Netwinner.

They’re finally cracking down on screaming kids on planes. It’s a story about your typical modern mom who doesn’t believe in teaching children manners, consideration and respect. Her 19-month-old was singing “Bye, bye plane,” and being totally obnoxious as they were about to take off. A flight attendant asked the mother to medicate the animal to quiet it down. They’re starting to pass out baby Benadryl which I think is a damn good idea with more and more animals flying and with less and less discipline in the picture. The mother refused, saying she wasn’t going to drug the kid up so they could have a pleasant flight. So the flight attendant says, “Look, this isn’t funny anymore. You need to shut your baby up.” Yet the woman would do absolutely nothing to hush the animal, so they turned around from taxiing and kicked the woman and animal off.

While it may’ve been rude to say she needed to shut it up, hopefully they’ll set an example for other untamed, spoiled little brats, but since we are living in a time where most folks think kids should just let it all out and let themselves go, no matter who gets put out, the mother will probably be able to sue the airline company. Even if tickets were cheap, it’d still be a lot to pay to get screamed at for hours at a time, so it’d be nice if they made Benadryl mandatory everywhere. The stuff is harmless.

Tom said I shouldn’t go into the idea of moving back to an apartment complex with a negative attitude. I told him that I was only doing that on account of past experience, but I suppose I shouldn’t assume that just because I’ve never had a quiet apartment doesn’t mean I can’t start. Although it’ll take time, maybe I’ll truly come to like it. I’d just hate to get into a house, no matter where it was, and know it could only be temporary. I just want to settle down for once and for all, and if the only place I can do that is in an apartment, so be it. It’s where I was meant to be all along.

I also know that complaining would be useless. If anything, it’d just make the situation worse, and I know Tom. I remember all too well how he’d be quick to automatically defend the neighbors and make excuses for them and I don’t want to deal with that shit all over again. I don’t know why a man would stand by his neighbors and not his wife, but that’s just the way he is. He’s so kissy-ass to neighbors that if they were noisy as hell, he’d still want me to keep my noise from their ears, but I have a problem with respecting those who don’t respect me. I just can’t do that. If I could, I’d still be associating with my family. Either way, I’m not going to return to fighting over neighbors and allowing them to come between us and all that old bullshit all over again.

Most of the apartments in the west had been built to block sight and not sound. Maybe by now, they’ve realized that while most people don’t care, we don’t all want to hear our neighbors. So maybe by now, they’ve built them a little tougher.

At least it’s only one of us that has to adapt. Never do we ever have to worry that he’s going to come out and say, “I can’t stand the noise here, I can’t sleep, I want to move.”

I know I may be tempted to run at first, but when the bumps and bangs and other shit are at their worst, I’ll just have to remember 3 things. The security that apartments bring. The fact that Tom won’t have to do yard work. The fact that I’ll no longer have to worry about the past returning to haunt me if I’m already stuck in it. You can’t get kicked back if you don’t allow yourself to get ahead. Of course, I could throw in the fact that any apartment would be better than Brattleboro, Valleyhead or jail.

I’m not expecting it to be peaceful, I’m just hoping to adapt. Tom said he won’t consider any places that allow pets and C-8, but I don’t know if that’ll make a difference. Everyone had jobs at the Phoenix apartments yet they still managed to drive me crazy before work, after work, on weekends. It’s just the nature of apartments. When you share a building with others, you’re going to hear/feel each other. The question is, will God go out of His way to put us with the elephant walker? The group of college kids? Or how about the Mexican bitch with the army of untamed little siblings that have to spend Christmas with her? The extremes. That’s what I worry about, although sometimes it seems like everyone’s an extreme.

I was thinking earlier about just how much easier the preparations to get out of Oregon are going as opposed to when we were leaving Arizona. Then it hit me that of course God would pave the way for us if He knew we were going to an apartment complex. If it’s to a place I don’t want to be in, He’d never set up any roadblocks like He would if we were trying to run off by ourselves to some secluded mountain. His not allowing me to live where I want to live makes me feel like I don’t deserve any better. Could this possibly be true? Am I simply not worthy of living in peace in a modest place for some reason?

I don’t think I’ll go to the pool that often because I couldn’t have it to myself, and because I’m not into tanning. I can’t tan anyway. I’d just get that awful itchy sun poisoning. I’m not young and thin anymore so I don’t expect people to pay much attention to me at the pool whenever I did go, gay, straight, male or female, which would be the only good thing. Friends mean trouble.

Speaking of apartments, “Dawn” emailed the Vista asking whatever became of the Stacey Searl she knew in ’93. I never got a reply which makes me think she’s long gone, though it would’ve been nice if they could’ve told me that, or she’s still there. I highly doubt she’s still there. Most people don’t have the same job that long and I can’t believe she wouldn’t have eventually gotten fired for misconduct. Whatever her personal reasons really were that motivated her to treat me the way she did, she was the type of person to make just about everybody and anybody miserable. Sooner or later the complaints would’ve added up pertaining to the way she handled things and butted into other people’s business. Once, when Judy was defending her, she said Stacey managed complexes bigger than the Vista in the past. If that’s so, then why step down to a smaller one? Wouldn’t that be like a demotion of sorts?

The midges are just now starting to take over the place. It’s a good thing we’ll be out of here in a week.

This computer is so much easier to see! That is until my eyes get even worse. Web pages are especially easier to see, but I could always set the font size in my documents.

For reasons I can’t fathom, I’ve gained 3 pounds overnight. Just like the last time I had that instantaneous two-pound bloat, last night I suddenly felt bloated, and today I awoke at 134 pounds. It’s almost like my body’s trying to gain back what the tea took off. I’m wondering if it could be the bread I got to make sandwiches with so I wouldn’t heat myself or the place up by cooking things.

I was curious to see if the Vista Ventana had a website and if it mentioned who was managing it. Well, they do have a site, but they don’t mention who today’s players are. I left a message from “Dawn” asking if Stacey Searl was around. I said I last knew her when she was managing the place in ’93 before I moved away.

The studios I was in are now twice as expensive. They now go for $585! I had been paying something like $277.

The stereos continue to be amazingly quiet. Have people finally gotten fed up enough to do something about them? Or is there a God that’s finally listening to me up there? I decided to pray for protection from health, financial, neighbor and noise problems in the off-chance He may care enough to help us this time around. But I also prayed to continue losing weight, yet have gone up so I don’t know what to think.

Next week Tom’s going to start calling places. He’s going to start with houses and duplexes till Wednesday, then move on to the inevitable – apartments. I know we’re fated to end up in apartments. Could be a duplex, but as we’ve learned, those can be just as bad. We’ve definitely got to keep the bamboos close by and get a horseshoe. As soon as we went on vacation, the noise curse was right back on us, though I don’t know if all the bamboos and horseshoes in the world could help us in a warm climate. Especially an apartment in a warm climate. Either way, it’s obvious God wants me in an apartment when I consider the fact that the Phoenix house was very apartment-like, thanks to the assholes next door, then had to play Siesta Suites in Scottsdale, then got dragged back into the city and into jail, then got booted out of Maricopa which was anything but apartment-like, then had to play motel again, then got stuck for nearly a year in a duplex because conveniently, no houses were available then.

Tammy never wanted to live in the city either. But how come she’s always had the choice and I haven’t? I don’t understand why it’s so important to Him that I live where I don’t want to live, but when apartments end up being our only choice, I’m going to do everything I can to adapt back to that life and stay there. For one, I’m sick of moving and it could mean losing out on some good wins. I have to redo passcards and update accounts, which is a pain. Lastly, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting thrown back and stuck yet again in a place I don’t want to be if I’m already there.

Yes, I am still going to lose more weight! I’m down to 131 pounds now. Amazing, huh?

The entire west has been swept by a heatwave. It’s almost like Arizona in Sacramento today at a 107º! It’s pretty toasty here too, at 99º. It’s to remain in the 90s at least till Tuesday. I’m surprised they’re not living in the pools they got set up around here.

Poor Randy! It must be a bitch for him to be out delivering mail in this heat. I miss him. I wonder if he’s thinking of me and how much I enjoy this heat. At least the stereos have been winter-quiet.

My new laptop is mostly set up now, thank God! It’s been a real pain in the ass configuring things. I’ve had to redo my Robo passcards and logins, and I’m still getting used to this keyboard, too. There’s still some fine-tuning to be done. Meanwhile, I hope I don’t have to go through this again for at least a decade! I’m going to eventually get new speakers that can plug into this thing. Then all I’ll have is the laptop and speakers, rather than two desktops and speakers. That’ll save on space and make moving a lot easier!

I forgot to mention that Stephen gave Tom back the $100 we gave him, saying it wasn’t necessary. That was really nice of him!

It’s to be in the 90s for the next few days. The people diagonally across the street put up an inflatable pool that’s smaller than next door’s. They put it in a weird spot, in the front corner close to the house next to them. I don’t know why they put it there and not on the other side where they’d have more space and privacy, but Westerners aren’t very big on space and privacy to begin with.

We went and ordered more tea, though I’m still not sure I’ll lose more weight. I’ll need the Claritin to lose anymore, then hopefully the tea will help keep it off.